Murder and Magic
by LoveRainandSnow
Summary: When a historical researcher stumbles upon a dead body in an abandoned house in the bayou, in comes Pride and his team to investigate. Join them as they find themselves in a tangled web of mystery, murder, ghosts and deception as voodoo myths and ritual attempt to keep the team from finding the truth. There is a pairing of Brody and LaSalle and one other potential pairing.


**Murder and Magic **

**Summary – **_When a historical researcher stumbles upon a dead body in an abandoned house in the bayou, in comes Pride and his team to investigate. Join them as they find themselves in a tangled web of mystery, murder, ghosts and deception as voodoo myths and ritual attempt to keep the team from finding the truth._

Author Note – I love history, especially American history. And New Orleans, well, Louisiana as a whole has a very rich and colorful history that includes myths, mysteries, stories and superstitions. I thought it would be fun to explore some of that history by weaving it within what the team does best, solving crimes. Hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Jean Lafitte, Louisiana – Late Summer 2014_

Charlotte stared at the monstrosity before her and shuddered. Although it was at least eight five degrees in Lafitte, Louisiana, she felt a chill come over her being as she looked briefly away from the abandoned house, trying to rid herself of a feeling of foreboding – _malediction_ as the locals called it – meaning 'curse.'

She turned back to the building which she estimated to be well over ten thousand square feet of living space, three stories tall. The daylight was fading fast as she continued to stare at the place in fascination, the house long since abandoned, the once white columns marking the front entrance way chipped, the darkened windows, some broken, peeking from behind the moss covered stone of the building, appearing to stare back at her.

She shivered again, certain she could feel the presence of long passed on inhabitants of the house surrounding her; their voices calling to her, riding on the slight breeze that rustled through the trees. _Ghosts,_ she thought, _so many ghosts here…_

_It's just a house, _Charlotte admonished herself for allowing her imagination to take over her logical self as she opened the back seat to her car to retrieve her camera. _Yes, it had a violent history behind it, but it was still just a house. An inanimate object.  
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She spent the next several minutes taking pictures of the front of the house, and surrounding area – overgrown grasses and brush, the rusted and dilapidated wrought iron fence – before moving towards the side of the building. She took several more photographs, pleased that she had spent the extra money to purchase the digital camera. The pictures would be of high quality and would be able to be published along with her research.

Charlotte replaced the cap on her camera lens and let it around her neck by its strap as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, taking with it a tendril of her strawberry blonde hair. The air was heavy with humidity as she looked up into the darkening sky; she still had a little while longer to explore before having to head back to town and her motel room.

She walked around the side of the building and stopped at the rear, taking more pictures. Like the front, moss had taken over the stone building, its tentacles spreading towards the roof. What surprised her was the back door was leaning up against the house, leaving the rear entrance wide open. When she first came to explore the house for her research two weeks ago, the door was still firmly attached by its hinges. _Curious,_ she thought to herself as she approached the open doorway.

She peeked inside but because no natural light was able to enter the windows, it was difficult to see very much. She hesitated as she swatted flies away from her face. To enter the house or not?

Charlotte looked at the door and then back to the darkened interior. Overcome with curiosity, as well as the possibility of some good pictures as part of her research, she quickly jogged back to her car and retrieved the flashlight from her glove compartment.

Once back at the rear entrance, Charlotte turned on her flashlight and stepped inside.

She shone her light, finding herself in a kitchen, cupboards empty, and a few cracked and broken dishes atop the old counters. She next went through a doorway and into a hallway that led to the front of the house.

The number of flies annoyed Charlotte as she continually swatted them away from her face, she coming to a stop midway down the hall. She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed, the odor she had initially smelled at the back entrance way having become much stronger here. _It explains the flies,_ she reasoned, moving her flashlight around the area, trying to locate the source of the smell.

It didn't take long for her to find it.

Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise at the sight of the body lying on the floor ahead of her. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, her mind shouting at her to run, and run fast. She stood frozen in place, staring at the body, dressed in a naval uniform, while she willed her body to follow her mind's orders to get out of there.

Charlotte ran out of the house.

TBC.

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><p>Historical Notes -<p>

The town of Jean Lafitte, named after the infamous pirate that sailed the area is tucked in between the swamps and bayous of the Mississippi Delta, and is part of what is known as the Barataria Terrbonne Estuary. This area is one of the world's most productive areas for varieties of fish and shellfish as well as being a unique ecosystem and is about a forty five minute drive from New Orleans.

Lafitte called himself a privateer, and if anyone ever did call him a pirate to his face, that person would be challenged to a duel.

The first governor of Louisiana, Claiborne, who served from 1812 to 1816, was angered by Lafitte's disregard for the laws and offered a reward of $300 for the capture of Lafitte. Lafitte made a counteroffer of $1000 for the capture of the governor, although he made it clear it was a joke.

This region where Lafitte is built was originally home to Native Americans, their ceremonial mounds still found along the bayous. After the founding of New Orleans in 1718, the French explored the area and established Barataria Bay as a harbor for large ships on the Gulf Coast.

In the 1730's early colonists exploited the forests of cypress and oak trees for ship construction and canals were dug between the bayous and the Mississippi River to transport lumber to saw mills, the last of which shut down in 1929. Plantation owners cultivated the land for sugar and rice production and the area also supplied fish, game and fur.


End file.
